Take a look, take a look, take a look at me
I’m the B-U-M and the B-L-E
With a B to the E and another E
I’m the ever-lovin’ ever-buzzin’ bumblebee

Don’t hunker in a hive like a honey bee
We do the bumblebee jive in a colony
in a hole underground or a hole in a tree
Don’t mess with us honey with your apiary

I’m the tiger in the sky dressed in yellow and black
See me flying real high got four wings on my back
I’m perfect aerodynamically
I’m the ever-loving’ ever-buzzin’ bumblebee

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/bumblebee/feed/0Ennuihttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/ennui/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/ennui/#respondMon, 13 Oct 2014 06:35:03 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=291The trouble with Henri his pauvre mère said
Is he suffers from ennui, won’t get out of bed
He won’t put his feet on the tedious floor
The thought of a shower’s a terrible bore
He’s resting he tells her, in between lulls
He’d flick through a book but they’re horribly dull
He goes to the toilet but just cos he must
He’d stay out of bed but he just can’t be fussed
Attempts to amuse him are met with a sigh
He says he would titter but he can’t quite see why
His Mum hopes that Amazon will end her sorrow
The dynamite’s ordered – it turns up tomorrow
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/ennui/feed/0Doublewide Invisible Incisorshttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/doublewide-invisible-incisors/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/doublewide-invisible-incisors/#respondMon, 07 Jul 2014 18:59:33 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=287I got doublewide invisible incisors
I got two black holes where front teeth used to be
I got space where once my wiggly pearly whites were
The tooth brigade’s been poachin’ ivory

What once was indivisibubbly rooted
Was yesterday just jiggling around
The fairy’s been and now my tooth’s transmuted
It’s only gone and turned into a pound

Beware the furtive duvethog* that hunts in bed at night
It holds the duvet loosely when you first turn out the light
Then it goes into a death roll like a river crocodile
You start out under covers, but that’s only for a while
Before you know what’s happened you are in the open air
Tucked up into ‘not a lot’ where duvet once was there
You try to find a corner but it’s vanished without trace
It’s just as hard as getting the duvet into the duvet case
You think you might just snuggle up into the duvet worm
The heat within’s not coming out, no, not one single therm
Your body temp is slipping : ninety eight, now ninety seven
(The heartless swine beside you’s never getting into heaven)
You think you might just freeze to death – you’re starting now to panic
Your brain invents a brand new law of bed thermodynamics
If heat’s conserved, it surely is inside the duvethog
“But why ?” you ask. Because the arse has stolen all the togs.

* In my mind this kind of rhymes with ‘rubber dog’.
This verse was inspired by the #FairytaleFriday writing challenge on Twitter.

Catherine commented :
William, whilst I attempted a tricky reversing manoeuvre:
“Mummy, how many marbles can a shark hold in its mouth at once?”…..
The reversing bit is important to the story. Xx

Mummy was busy reversing
Her arm round the passenger seat
Her brow was furrowed deeply
Her focus was complete
Her tongue was poking up & right
She was trying so hard to park
But the question I needed answering right
Was about the great white shark
Its appetite is voracious
It’s always gobbling prey
Its mouth is quite capacious
In a toothy kind of way
It’s one of the ocean’s marvels
The fabulous way it hunts
But I wondered how many marbles
It could hold in its mouth at once
Mummy was quick to remind us
She was quite busy trying to park
When she bumped into something behind us
And said something rude about sharks

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/shark-marbles/feed/0Punge the Cakehttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/punge-the-cake/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/punge-the-cake/#respondSun, 05 Jan 2014 13:10:18 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=246Punge the cake was a winner
Of duels with a parry and lunge
His sword work was second
To no-one at all
Hoorah for Victorious Punge !
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/punge-the-cake/feed/0Morning Rime Rhymehttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rime/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rime/#respondFri, 20 Dec 2013 00:18:22 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=241I slipped on a poem this morning
this year for the very first time
Some hoar in the night
Had painted it white
and covered the pavement in rime
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rime/feed/0Rainbowshttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rainbows/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rainbows/#respondSat, 05 Oct 2013 09:27:53 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=234Magic rainbows,
light and liquid
prestidigitation,
but they wouldn’t
work at all with
less precipitation.
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rainbows/feed/0Slay Bellshttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/slay-bells/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/slay-bells/#respondSun, 23 Dec 2012 15:00:50 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=231

I hate bad spelling & a friend pointed out that ‘Slay Bells’ meant something VERY different from ‘sleigh bells’.

Slay bells ring, are you listening ?
Down his neck, blood is glistening
A beautiful sight
A bit of a fright
Murder in a winter wonderland

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/slay-bells/feed/0Gaseous Poohttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/gaseous-poo/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/gaseous-poo/#respondThu, 06 Sep 2012 23:10:30 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=225Gaseous Poo was a boxer
He floated just like a bee
He stung like a butterfly
sat on a peach, inserted rectally.

He floated on top of the water
A legend all bubbly and brown –
Knowing the crowd would try to enshroud
him with tissues – refusing to drown.

He was down but by God he was fighting
He was not going to let it all end
No miserable flush or stab with a brush
Could push him around the bend.

’cause Gaseous was a survivor
He’d been dumped and was shat on you see
But do not despair because Gas’ll be there
The next time you come in to pee.

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/gaseous-poo/feed/0Twenty First Century Manhttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/twenty-first-century-man/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/twenty-first-century-man/#respondThu, 12 Jul 2012 15:42:45 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=223In the twenty first century man will be
Still arguing and fighting tribally
For some it is land and some religion
For some it’s the game on television
So here’s what I want to impress on you
If you’re one of them I think less of you
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/twenty-first-century-man/feed/0Work Life Balancehttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/work-life-balance/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/work-life-balance/#respondTue, 12 Jun 2012 22:06:26 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=220I’ll get a work life balance
when I die & go to heaven
WORK is worth eleven points
but LIFE’s worth only seven
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/work-life-balance/feed/0I don’t want to exercisehttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/i-dont-want-to-exercise/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/i-dont-want-to-exercise/#respondThu, 31 May 2012 22:13:13 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=214I don’t want to exercise
I just wanna be a smaller size
I’ve tried everything and I’ve realised
My waist will not be hypnotised

I haven’t run – what I’ve done is fuck all
My gut hangs inches over my buckle
The pants I buy are labelled ‘L’
as in ‘Lard’ or ‘Lead’ or ‘Fed quite Well’

My belly is jelly one minute then solid
My flat’s full of crap from the takeaway – squalid
Getting caught with the thought of a jog makes me shiver
I’d walk to the pizza place – but they deliver

I don’t want to exercise
I just wanna be a smaller size
There’s gotta be an easier way to do it
Sennakot and a pot and I just sit and poo it ?

It’s important I oughtn’t ignore my inflation
My waist’s got the taste for some exaggeration
No lotion or potion or pill’s going to cut it
(Must) take hold of my cake hole I’ve just got to shut it

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/i-dont-want-to-exercise/feed/0Squirrel Partyhttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/squirrel-party/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/squirrel-party/#respondFri, 18 May 2012 10:20:12 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=200The squirrels invited the pigeons
To a party, they said “Come in grey
We’ve invited along all the foxes
And Scruffy the neighbourhood stray”

“We’ll see you at seven / half seven
You don’t want to miss the buffet
There’s chicken we found at eleven last night
that had only been there for a day”

The pigeons were really excited
They fluttered and flapped and they cooed
I don’t think they thought about foxes
And what they consider is food

The pigeons arrived at half seven
The foxes were fashionably late
But instead of a nice bit of chicken
It was all of the pigeons they ate

The squirrels were rather embarrassed
(And covered in feathers and beak)
But the foxes were quite unrepentant:
“Let’s do this at our place next week !”

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/squirrel-party/feed/0Gone to the Dogshttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/gone-to-the-dogs/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/gone-to-the-dogs/#respondMon, 14 May 2012 06:26:58 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=193

Last week, in news we don’t really care about, a dog called Pudsey won a TV talent contest. Pudsey is the name of a one eyed teddy bear that raises money for children. Judging by its eye patch, I like to imagine it’s a pirate, stealing money from Portuguese ships bring gold back from the New World … but it might just be a stuffed bear.

A dog named after a bear,
(Not a real one but one that is stuffed,)
has more talent than all of the country ?
I can’t bear it I’ve just had enough

Eleanor posted :
Quote of the day from my physiotherapist:
“The buttocks really are the root of all evil.”

“The buttocks are the root of all evil”
my physiotherapist said,
“From the minute you’re up in the morning
to when you lie down in your bed,
your buttocks are plotting your downfall
creeping up on you from behind.
I have seen a posterior inducing hysteria
in an inferior mind.”

It bothered me for a moment
but the feeling I’m sure will pass
Just for now though emotion’s beneath me
I don’t want to be seen as an arse.

Some poets write verse about clouds or butterflies or love.
My muse is often a little less … lofty

I deprecate dawdling
These slatterns of sloth
Pedestrian walkers
Who saunter and loaf
Go walk in the country
On footpaths through trees
Or buck the fuck up now
Just hurry up please
Walk with some purpose
Or stride with intent
Don’t browse through the Metro
Phone messages sent
Don’t cling to your boyfriend
The couple chicane
Move along, step aside now
You drive me insane

This verse brought to you by the muttering man behind you at London Bridge station.

It would have been Dr. Seuss’ 108th birthday last week (2nd March 2012), if he hadn’t died at a perfectly reasonable age for that activity in 1991.
Lots of people did wonderful things to celebrate the fact that he wasn’t 108, presumably because they like 22x33 or the fact that like Bart Simpson, Theodor Giesel was born in Springfield – just earlier.
To be honest, I don’t know, but I read a really annoying article in the New Yorker that seemed to be exactly what Theodor Giesel was not – pompous, ostentatiously learnèd and overly fond of italicised French and Latin.

You might notice it’s not written in the structure of the title.
You might get out more. I’m just saying.

“Rhymed anapaestic dimeter” he said
I’ve got rhymed anapaestic di-thing in my head !
This pestilent prosody runs through my brain.
from my head to my dimetric feet this refrain
goes on pulsing, convulsing and bouncing around,
demonic, these phonics, they pound out their sounds
like trains tritter-trattering over a track.
Anapaests are just dactyls that read from the back.
A dimeter’s simply a line with two feet
like drawing a stickman that’s not quite complete.
And this counting of syllables isn’t as fun
as bumping along with them one lump by one –
besides I prefer to be metricly loose
(and remember that Seuss rhymes with Joyce and not noose)
So if someone takes your verse and tries to dissect it
I suggest – have a tantrum – why not go apoplectic ?
and tell them this rhyming was writ with aplomb
and it’s best if it goes tiddley-om-tiddley-pom

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/rhymed-anapaestic-dimeter/feed/0Carbaminohaemoglobinhttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/carbaminohaemoglobin/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/carbaminohaemoglobin/#respondSat, 31 Dec 2011 14:27:10 +0000http://www.domdog.co.uk/?p=71I received a challenge on Twitter yesterday via a friend, @hamstall.
It said :

@mynameisedd: The first rapper to make a rhyme with “carbaminohaemoglobin” will get my eternal respect.”

My friend Steph thought it would be impossible to write a song about a dead badger. I’m not fond of the word ‘impossible’ when applied to song and poems. So Steph, this one’s for you.

The Dead Badger Band played exclusively rock
There was Stripey and Digger and of course there was Brock
Their amps were the biggest that money could get
So large that they didn’t quite fit in the sett !

Stripey played keyboards and Digger he drummed
While Brock played guitar as he sang and he hummed
They were called The Dead Badger Band (so Stripey said)
because they were Badgers and because they were dead

The Doctor had given them his diagnosis
“You’ve all got a bad case of tuberculosis”
Now a badger’s a sturdy and healthy wee beast
But a dose of TB makes him quickly deceased

So our heroes decided they just wouldn’t cop it
They’d stay here as ghosts and they’d rock till they drop it
Being undead would give them more time to rehearse
And they’d drive to their gigs in a second hand hearse

So now every night of the week they play mostly
Ethereal music that’s heavy but ghostly
They’ll go up to heaven, but not til the Lord
Says they can rock – not play harp- they’d be bored.

Once more the delightful Olivia points out the mysterious workings of the universe.
Olivia: “Hey! Last time I was on this trike it was bigger! How has it got a bit smaller?”
I am unconvinced her Dad knows this much actual science … but that’s why they invented poetic licence.

The last time I rode this tricycle it was bigger than this I think
Did some master of miniaturisation come along and make it shrink ?
I’ve checked for other changes, I’ve checked its symmetry
I’ve checked both handlegrips and I’ve checked wheels one, two and three

I’ve gone and checked the manual they provide when they deliver
But still I haven’t figured out why my tricycle was bigger
I thought it through I’ve pondered, cogitated, I have thunk
But yet I cannot tell you why my tricycle has shrunk

Perhaps my Mummy’s lying making up some fabrication
Cos she loves me and she’s trying to placate my indignation
But I haven’t heard her offer me one single cause at all
That would tell me why my favourite trike is suddenly so small

At this rate I’ll be riding with my knees up by my ears
It won’t be long before my trike just ups and disappears
I’m worried this affliction though might spread to other stuff
But apart from maybe brothers’ heads – one shrunken thing’s enough

My Daddy says “It could be worse, so stop your mad invective
The expansion of the universe puts it all into perspective”
I can’t tell Dad that’s twaddle I don’t want to be in trouble
But he says that it’s all explained by Mister Edwin Hubble

The universe is growing every minute, every day
And everything that’s in it moves a bit further away
And objects in the distance seem much smaller than they were
That’s why it looks as if my trike has turned out miniature

Then Dad went on to tell me what occurs as it gets older
As the universe expands it keeps on growing ever colder
And in the end each molecule is frozen like an icicle
I wonder though – he never said – what happens to my tricycle ?

]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/my-tricycle-has-shrunk/feed/1Postcardshttp://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/postcards/
http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/postcards/#respondThu, 12 May 2011 20:48:59 +0000http://domdog.co.uk/?p=34postcards
from when you were away
are all I have left
to remind me
I never could read your writing
]]>http://www.domdog.co.uk/index.php/postcards/feed/0